Dance With the Devil
by demon-hell-fire
Summary: Marinette wants to dance. Unfortunately, she clams up when she knows she's being watched, and has a reputation of being a klutz. So she comes up with a plan, a disguise, in hopes of ridding her ridiculous fear and finally have the freedom to be who she wants, brave and fearless. Then comes Chat. The partner she never wanted. The partner she needed. Inspired by starrycove on tumblr.
1. Chapter 1

**Hard time conceptualizing? Check out the inspirational art for this one at starrycove on tumblr. It's good stuff and Marinette and Chat were looking exceptionally tantalizing** ** _and I couldn't resist alright._** **On another note, to make this easier on myself, Marinette casually wears a bun in this AU. You know that shit was awesome. You may have read this on my one-shots drabble thingy, but hey, it needed it's own story.**

Chapter 1: Freedom

It took a while, but after sneaking out enough times and training in private and watching, Marinette nearly, _nearly_ had the confidence to just get up and go for it. It was right in front of her. Alya had, months ago, tried to push her into it, and it took a lot of pushing to make it seem like she wasn't interested. It was a lie, but kind of necessary. It was simply too embarrassing, and she knew Adrien, fashion model extraordinaire, knew how to break-dance. He'd even made a few guest appearances at different shows to showcase the next line of product of his fathers, who owned the gig. But what if he saw her? What if he was there? She couldn't do it, couldn't stand to face failure in front of the boy she'd gone to school with and pined over for the last year. She was a wreck around him, same as she was a wreck when others watched her dance.

Alya, her old instructor Mr. Fu, and her parents were the only people she could ever execute even the most simple of maneuvers around. She couldn't dance for real.

That is, not with anyone knowing it was her. If, say, perhaps, possibly, she had put in some twin-tails, covered her face in red makeup across half the face, wore a polka-dot shirt that Marinette would never wear because it was skin for miles, and call herself _Ladybug..._

Well, Marinette would never.

 _Ladybug_ would definitely.

It was an idea she had tossed around for a while, and she realized if it worked, it would be perfect. She could fail terribly and there would be none the wiser. She shows up with her bun up and normal make-up and in her reserved, shy fashion sense, _which was as cute as a button, darn rights. You don't need to flash skin to look good,_ later on and she would be safe. Adrien would be clueless, Chloe wouldn't drag her name through the mud, _any further that is. Not that it mattered anyway,_ done deal.

 _How could I resist._

At least, that's what she told herself as she smeared red across her face. She had to try, if nothing else. She had something to prove, something to show Paris, something other than being a simple, _but talented,_ seamstress and daughter of a baker.

Marinette was pleasantly and equally terrifyingly surprised at the confidence she felt when she put on the final steps of her 'disguise.' The sly look she gave herself in the mirror, how powerful, yet elegant she felt with her midriff and slender, but hardened muscles exposed to the cold air. She walked down the alleys at night with no fear, no regard for safety. She felt like a hero. Like nothing could stop Ladybug.

The lights, the crowd, the heat and volume of the stadium, reverberating with the every boom from the bass, left her intoxicated in a way she was never sure she even could have felt before as she walked through the double-doors proudly. She was thrilled and exhilarated, her breath hitched in excitement as she handed her name in to Nino. The DJ who may or may not have been dating Alya, and if he knew who she was? He stayed oblivious, giving her a strange eye at her get-up, looking her up and down with no betrayal of recognition, before giving her the go-ahead to _dance._

"Alright, uh, _Ladybug,_ you're a bit late, but hey, it's cool! There's a slot right after Illustrator and before my buddy Adrien comes down to make some sales or something stupid like that," he leaned forward and whispered quickly, "I know his dad runs the place but damn, it's nearly midnight. Same for you and me, man, it ain't for another hour til you're up. You've probably got school tomorrow, so don't feel bad if you wanna drop out. If I wasn't getting paid so much, I wouldn't even be here!" He handed her a ticket with a number on it.

She took it quickly, tearing it out of his hands to ensure she couldn't even bring herself to consider to say no. Now, her name would be called, and she'd just invented it for real now. She couldn't tarnish it the moment she'd practically birthed it into reality, now could she? What did she have to worry about anyhow. She was Ladybug. She was invincible, incorruptible, and Adrien wouldn't see a thing. He didn't come until after. "Adrien huh?" she piped up quickly, the confidence in her voice surprising even herself, "how often is he around?"

"Not more than once every week or two, sometimes only three. He once told me he'd love to come more, but his dad wouldn't allow it. He's more of a mascot to help keep people coming and sales moving." There was a bitterness to his voice that Marinette didn't know quite what to make of, but she'd worry about it later.

"That's a shame, I heard he's hot stuff, I'd love to see him dance!" With that, Marinette turned around and marched away hastily, her secret desire slipping out in a haze of bravado, her face and 'mask' matching in colour. She knew he could dance, and everyone else said he was so good he was 'hot,' but the combination of the two things came out wrong. Yes, of course. It just came out wrong.

She made her way to the back, made sure her stride was long and empowered, feeling the embarrassment slip away quickly. She walked clean past people she knew ought to recognize her, people she'd met here before and knew her name. They never said a word to her, other than a few polite nods or quirked brows. This was going to work. She inhaled deeply before joining some of the other competitors behind the curtains, soaked in the sounds of the crowd cheering as someone finished their performance. It must have gone well, because as the music faded out the cheers kept coming.

As she slid into the room, she saw a large man she swore she recognized shaking his shoulders before running out with a cheer of his own. Some of the others looked her way, giving her a nod. One in particular, Kim, from school, waved and walked over. A cocky, but decent guy.

"What's with the get-up kid?" She smirked and squinted at him, a retort at her tongue _immediately._

"What's with yours? You from the sixties?"

He snorted, eyes rising grinning surprisingly softly. " _Oh_ , I like you. You're going to do just fine up there. Never seen you around before, so you must be new. Kim," he stuck out his hand.

Marinette took it in a heartbeat and squeezed roughly, more than prepared for the grip she knew he would bring with the greeting, "Call me Ladybug." His grin only magnified and he squeezed back.

"You better be good at dancing. These wimps don't have nothing on your handshake, or the dance floor. Half of them call themselves the Akuma, think they run the place or something. Hope to see you bring something fresh to the crowd. I may be a one man army of bad ass [ _insert eye roll_ ], but these guys are really wearing me down on morale here. Whatever you do, don't let them recruit you. They practically suck out all talent, rig the dances, rig bets on who gets voted best, try and manipulate the crowd..." he trailed off as his name was called. He only sighed, something looking a little crushed in the next smile he shot her. "My turn. Best of luck, _little Ladybug_."

"Yeah, whatever _Kim._ "

He chuckled before took a moment to try and pump himself up before running out into the crowd. It seemed a little ridiculous, there was a group of people eyeing her carefully, scrutinizing her every move suddenly, but she couldn't bring herself to care. She could do this, and it would just be for fun any how. Something to make her feel alive, forget about Adrien and boys as a whole and simply let herself go crazy and let loose and be herself. In a new sense, too, someone she hadn't ever been. It would be fun. After all, she had just smack talked Kim like he wasn't six feet tall and weighed three and a half Marinette's.

She spent the rest of her time stretching, preparing for her turn, and ignoring the leers she was getting from the Akuma. Clearly, they weren't a fan of competition, nor wild cards. Yet, they hadn't said a word to her. Marinette wondered what on earth Kim was talking about, they were just a little 'corporate.' Like wrestling or something. No big deal. She'd have nothing to do with them anyway.

"I like the look!" someone said, tapping her shoulder as she sat and reached for a toe, nearly doing the splits. Marinette nearly fucking jumped out of her skin, but she was Ladybug now, so she did her absolute damnedest not to move a muscle. She would not be jumpy, she would not be flinchy or a coward in this 'mask.'

"Get in line, buddy," she smirked, leaning her head back after a moment, only to be met with a sea of _green_ staring gently down at her, twinkling with something she was entirely unfamiliar with. She chocked on her own spit and coughed, flopping back onto the ground. "A-Adrien! You're a b-bit..." Marinette paused and shot up. She was Ladybug. She would _not_ stutter. It would ruin the point of this, of everything.

"Adrien, the super-model! Come to watch me dance?" _Much better. Wish I could sink through the floor, but soooo much better._

Then, _he_ blushed, and looked at the ground. "Well, I... I wouldn't mind watching. I-I've never seen you around before, what's with the, the makeup and the, uh, I mean-" he paused, scratching the back of his neck and looking away.

 _Damnit this boy is too cute for his own good._

"Well, I'll give you a hint. If I didn't have the makeup, you might recognize me. Anyone might, so I thought hey, a disguise and a nickname would be fun." She patted him on the cheek as her name, _Ladybug,_ was called up, "Looks like you can watch me give it a whirl. Never done this in public before, so cheer me on!"

She took off through a curtain, giving a wink as he nodded aggressively, hoping she wasn't screwed now that she _knew_ _damn well_ he was watching. She did her best to march up, through the silent crowd who's eyes were all locked on her, faint whispers of _who, what, why_ echoing around her. She made her way to the dead center of the building, stopping. All lights roamed towards her, while she remained stalk still. Her heart was in her throat as she struggled to inhale for what seemed to be eternity, the whispers growing louder.

"DJ!" she shouted suddenly, will power rising upward like a wave of power and it must have been luck, her finger whipping upwards towards where she knew he was, a devilish grin stretching across her lips, "NUMBER 47!"

It started soft and quick, and she turned slowly, arms snaking down her figure and lidded eyes locking on Adrien in the back, where she had come out. He was wide-eyed and enthralled, and as the volume softly grew, her confidence followed upwards before a crash of thunder boomed the building and she dropped in perfect tempo into a split before she _let. Loose._

Spinning, thunderous music pushing her up and down like it were the ocean itself carried her movements, she knew it too well, knew them too well, yet she made it up as she went. Suddenly she was on air as she held a pose on a single hand, so easy it was like she was a cloud itself. She couldn't use this to forget Adrien. She'd use Adrien to propel her forward. More spinning, faster as the beat rose, before stopping suddenly and she froze.

Reset, stand and slam the legs, grab the shirt, lift and pull, tease and play and spin again. The whole time a smile stretched across her face, this time the eyes glued to her had her intoxicated, greedy, alive. She could ignore the strand of hair stuck to her face and in her eyes, the pain in her chest as she moved with a madness that came only with freedom. A freedom that came from this odd power she felt, knowing Adrien was watching, knowing _everyone_ was watching.

Then, it stopped for good, and Marinette realized she was laying on the ground in a pose of all things. She blinked, the high of dancing fading and pain of panting so heavily kicking in. She stood, and a wave of cheers so loud she took a moment to plug her ears, chuckling. She could feel the sweat pouring off her face, and worried her makeup might streak off completely.

 **"ALL RIIIIIGHT!"** Nino thundered over the mic, the violently loud crowd quieting a bit, **"What was THAT? Ladybug, that was the best thing I've seen all week. Please, please tell me, and tell these people you plan on coming back?"**

It took only a second for her to make a decision. The pain in her chest, exhilaration. The ache in her ears, demand for more. The steady thundering of her heart, well that was either thrill, love, or both, because Adrien was staring right at her with eyes wide and enthralled like no other, and all she could see was green.

"You're damn right, DJ."

 **A/N READ ME;**

 **Thoughts? Headcanons? DISHEM OUT. I've got plans already, but hey, more is merrier. I can't do everything, but I started building and building in my head, there is so much more to come.**

 **Thanks again starrycove for pseudo permission to do this, and for bringing the AU into existence.**


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Plans

The crowd roared in approval, lights flashed wildly. Nino was really dishing it out for this one, and Marinette could only grin wide and wave before ducking out quickly. High fives and wolf whistles were apparently in high demand, so she ran swiftly through them. She slammed her back to the wall as she tore around the corner, the panting and rush of endorphin and excitement coming to a slow. Laughing to herself suddenly, she looked for something reflective to check her makeup, surprised to find it wasn't only on there, but appeared more spread and almost smoky.

"Smoking performance, smoky eyes. I kinda like it," she mumbled, leaning back dropping her hands to her hips.

"A fan of puns?" She dropped her shoulders.

"Ugh, 'fan' isn't the word I'd use." Her response is again immediate, no thought required, and Marinette steps back. _This mask makes quite the difference._ She leaned her head back lazily to glance at the speaker. She frowned and nearly spoke his name.

 _Ladybug, not Marinette, she shouldn't know._

"I'm Nathaniel," he smiled softly, sweeping his red hair to the side. A pretty boy from class who was soft spoken and a magnificent artist. Guess he could dance, she wondered how he'd do. "On the stage they call me the 'Evillistrator.' Stupid name I got from the boss, and I wanted to talk to you about him-"

She cut him off quickly with a laugh, "The Evillistrator? What kind of man gives his guys a name like that?" He chuckled softly, but it was hollow.

"Look, I don't know why, but I like you. You uh... remind me of someone," he blushed slightly, "Papillon is impressed with your performance. He... he says you should join the Akuma. He's going to make you a deal, ask you what you want, like some kind of deal with the devil. As soon as you say 'yes,' and you will, there's no getting out of it."

Marinette raised her brow. She just got what she wanted. She wanted to dance and be free of her own fears, nothing this 'Papillon' could offer would give her that. "Not going to happen there evil artist dude. Ma... Ladybug." She gives his hand a firm shake, "So, what's your point?" He looked at her pityingly, smiling again.

"Everyone gives in to him. If you don't have a reason, he'll give you one. If you plan on saying no... maybe don't come around too often." With that mysterious bit of information, Marinette shrugged her shoulders, looking down at her hands.

Rug burn. Rug burn? Floor burn? They burned. Gloves would be a good addition, and making them wouldn't be a sweat. It was all coming together beautifully, some butterfly man wasn't going to change that. What's the worst he could do? Threaten her? She used to be a gang member with her friends in middle school. She used to kick _ass_. Those were uglier days, and she'd made bad decisions, so her parents came up with a way to channel her energy. Dancing, of course. Mr. Fu always said she had great potential with the serious amount of energy her tiny body had.

Hoo boy, did she have energy. She practically ran home, her sweaty skin cooled instantly, her face flushed and smile wide as she reached her house, the bakery. Something in her decided not to bother with the door, she climbed up the wall.

God, she had never felt so alive. She tore off her clothes, which reeked, and dragged them into the bathroom to give herself a proper look in the mirror. She took a moment to stare as she stripped the ribbons out of her hair, then rinsed her face.

Vigorously.

This stuff was a nightmare to get out. At least it was totally worth it. When she finally got it off, she threw a towel over her shoulders and did the messiest bun she'd ever let see the light. She chuckled. "There's no way they noticed."

That night, she dreamed of booming music, the flow of dance, and green eyes, only green eyes, glued to her as they moved with her. Her dreams swam with them, burning into her, dancing with her, hand in hand, up until the moment she woke. Morning came and went without a hitch, her parents unaware of he late night escapades as they always had been, sending her off to school exhausted. Head in the clouds, but exhausted, having not gotten home until 2 in the morning.

School went by swimming at first, until an interesting snag made itself apparent.

"You weren't there last night Marinette, you should have seen her. She was all over the place! It was the coolest thing I had ever seen, she was like an ocean of moves! She is going to be the next big thing, just you watch!" She'd been flailing her arms around excitedly, showing some (admittedly pretty... flattering) pictures. Marinette only rolled her eyes, still too tired to care. Alya was clueless, so that was a bonus. "OH! And... well, I've got bad news too."

"And here I thought you were just going to go on and on about your new crush," Marinette grinned, leaning towards her with a knowing look. It was only a tease, she knew she swung both ways, but she was currently into Nino, _whether she'd admit it or not._ Alya blushed and huffed indignantly.

"No, I was going to talk about yours and his for a minute. Looks like _your_ boy-toy model sent straight from heaven-"

"Sarcasm. Always good."

"-is falling hard, crash and burn, for this Ladybug. I'd say metaphorically he was drooling, but I think he actually might have. I nearly... _ahem_ I don't necessarily blame him, that girl was like a superhuman out there."

 _I might not get over the fact my best friend has the hots for my secret identity, but whatever._ "Look, I get it, she was totally awesome, but no one is perfe- _WHAT is this about Adrien drooling over herrrr?"_ Marinette suddenly whispered, gripping her shirt and pulling her close.

"I knew you wouldn't like that," Alya rose her hands defensively, mistaking her embarrassment for rage and envy, " _Look on the bright side Mari. You can take this situation to move on, or make a move before_ he _does, or even worse, Ladybug does. No one is saying no to those hips."_

Make a move?

A little lightbulb went off for barely a moment until a suave voice piped up behind her, causing her to jump back.

"You guys talking about Ladybug? She's pretty amazing, huh?" Adrien said, his face bright and curious. _Shit._

"A-Adrien! Yes! Ladybug! Crushes! CRUSHED! She... she crushed the dance, apparently. According Alya. Who goes there. I was not. This time, maybe later I will but it's... hard." _Sigh._

He smiled and raised a brow, confused and adorable, "Yeah she was... she was something else. But, I tell you, _I_ think she was sloppy."

"What? An outrage!" cried Alya, fists clenched.

"No, no I'm serious!" he laughed taking a step back, "she's got the kind of flow that needs something more. She looks like she needs a partner, something more grounded. She's got half the perfect combo! She's water and air, flowing and spinning, perfectly I might add, but it's too much. She needs a bit of earth and fire! Do... uh, I've rambled a bit here."

"Thought this through a bit hm?" Alya teased, and Marinette sat perplexed. Was she accidentally getting advice from Adrien? It was pretty good advice too, it sounded like she was being a bit _too_ loose. A partner though? Something about that seemed a little wrong. It would kind of ruin the fun. She was supposed to be doing this for herself, to improve and to help open her up out of this shell she was stuck in. And Adrien maybe, possibly, _impossibly_ having a crush on her as Ladybug? This persona she'd made up? She didn't even know how to feel about that. "Why do you bring it up, plan on being her partner yourself? I heard you were good, but _that_ good?" THEN Marinette's heart really jumped into her throat. That would truly be impossible.

"I... I kinda wish. My dad would kill me, I do need sleep you know. Beauty sleep and all that," he chuckled softly, eyes glazing over for a moment.

"Yeah, fair enough. Busy, busy, busy. Can't dance with Ladybug. Then who? Some of those Akuma guys? Wimps."

"Alya!" Adrien laughed, his eyes lighting up and voice ringing like bells. _Okay, so I embellish a bit. He's cute._ "They aren't that bad. But the mix would be... bad. In fact, I bet everyone at the club would be a bad mix with her. It would take someone all kinds of new and just as hot on the floor, if not more, to counteract and compliment Ladybug. Who knows. Anyway, class is going to start soon. I'll see you two later!"

Alya sighed in relief, placing a hand on Marinette's shoulder. "I may have been wrong, actually. He's just fascinated in her style. Good lord he can go on about that apparently. AND, and, he can't get to close to her! You're in the clear!" This time, Marinette sighed, shaking her head. This was suddenly a mess all around. She did not want a partner. Not that she would terribly mind it being Adrien, but she couldn't do that. She would fall flat on her face faster than the speed of sound. The partner thing would work, probably, but it was a personal matter. This whole thing was personal.

"Get to class Alya. It's no big deal."

The day couldn't end fast enough, excitement ran through Marinette's veins and the clock seemed to be stuck in some void of slow motion, because damnit the day would simply not end. Well, it felt that way up until it did end, and Marinette did her best to casually say goodbye to Alya, inform her she 'wouldn't be going to the club,' and to enjoy her night. Alya said something about trying to get more pictures or a good place for a video if Ladybug showed up again. Which was exactly the plan. As soon as she arrived at home, did her homework and grabbed a bite to eat, she was out her window. Makeup smeared thick across her eyes and this time rocking some gloves she threw some dots on.

This time, it was really on. Adrien and Alya think she needs work? She'll show them exactly what it meant to work it. This time, it wasn't the thrill or excitement pushing her forward, it was sheer competitiveness. The doors swung wide open into the building as she burst through roughly, like she was here to do nothing short of beat up some punks. The noise wasn't as high-octane as the previous night, but the environment was always something different, something pure, like energy itself. She strolled in to greet Nino in his booth.

"How's it look toda-" He flinched violently, tossing Alya to the side with matching yelps of surprise.

"Ladyb-bug. Hey. Yo. Surprised me."

"Me too. Ignore that, he was checking a loose string on my shirt."

 _Her messy hair said otherwise. If I had to choose I woman, I suppose,_ Marinette mused, quirking a brow. "Yeah, okay love-birds. Get a room. So, who do I need to kiss to get a good spot tonight. Throw me somewhere smack center between a couple of the Akuma's, throw them off their game for the night." She didn't know exactly why she was being the way she was, but something made her want to fight the world tonight. Adrien wasn't even going to be here. Where's the fun if she didn't make it herself?

"Ah... well, there's actually only one tonight. Interestingly, there's a dude here who seems to have taken after you a bit. The whole makeup, nickname, hey! You got gloves just like his, matching your own names. Which is perfect, because if you want in, you'll have to partner up with him."

"What?" Marinette had to do her best not to glare daggers at Alya. She set this up. If not because of the conversation earlier, the shit-eating grin she had on was a dead give away.

"Trust me! It'll be a hit, you two could be like a shtick! A gimmick! The crowd will go fucking wild. Plus, he'll be out there a long ass time if you don't, the docket is a long one. That someone, like, random jumps in and does some freestyle but that would be such a bummer and the crowd wi-"

"Wait. Wait wait wait. What's his name? He stole my thing? One day, unbelievable. I don't do partners. Who organised this? I told you I'd be back, make some space! I'm a solo act, didn't you see that when I rolled in yesterday?"

"You'll be up in a half hour. You showed up way late yesterday, but hey, it's Friday! Everyone and their dog wants to be here on a Friday. Not my fault you took off yesterday and screwed yourself out of a solo. Look, you don't even need to be partners! Make it a competition, kick his ass or something! He looks like a wimpy cat-boy version of you! If you hate the idea so much, grind him into dust on the floor and make sure people don't try it again!"

With a frown, and a moment of thought, it seemed Nino had a point. Not a partner. A target, another goal, and the opportunity to _wipe the grin off Alya's face._ She didn't need a partner. She needed a bit of practice, she needed to dance. She could prove it here and now, just by tweaking her own style a hair. Easy. Some copy-cat wouldn't ruin her fun, he wouldn't even be a pain to deal with. He'd be a stepping stone.

Confidence renewed, but still mildly upset, she milked it a bit, "Fine, fine, fine. As long as I get a good spot on Sunday. I'm busy tomorrow. What with my secret identity, blah blah blah. Plus, if this kid has nothing on me, I don't want to see my name next to another's in a docket for a long time. Got it?"

A flash of a nervous OK sign was all she needed before she stomped out of the room. Nino was a good guy, Alya was just a terrible influence on him. Not that was actually upset, in reality she sort of saw this coming a mile away. Alya was, out of anyone she ever met and any movie she had ever seen, the ultimate schemer/false cupid. She probably thought this cat-boy (ludicrous) would hit it off and she would swoon hard or something.

 _Well fuck if she wasn't almost right._

The second she walked into the back, she froze, because she spotted him immediately. He was decked out in a black sweater with neon green outlines along the zippers, hems, the strings for the hood, pockets, and inside the motherfucking _cat ears on top that all matched his eyesthatcouldswallowherwhole,_ help.It even had a cat paw on it, and his gloves. Now he just needed some whiskers and cat tattoos on _tone, muscular arms._

"Ladybug!" he laughed, his laughter boyish and carefree. Shame meant nothing, clearly. "Chat Noir, not Cat-Boy." _Even his shoes had the stupid paw._ "Nice to meet you. Quite the show you put on last night, and uh... well I actually got a little jealous," his blonde hair poked from under the hood, it was messy and wild, like an animal, and it clashed severely with the black face-paint that covered from his eyes to his hairline, "So I decided that every Lady needed a Knight. And came the Black Cat, Chat Noir. Because, you know, it's black out at _knight."_

Marinette had never slapped her hand to her forehead so hard in her entire life. Now terrible jokes to top it all off, oh absolutely fucking _great._

"Can... do you even know how to dance? You look like you're straight out of a cartoon."

The fake hurt that flamboyantly flashed across his face was at least in indication that maybe he wouldn't embarrass himself.

" _My Lady._ Of course! Why else would I be here? I'm not jealous of your, however magnificent they were, moves! I'm just glad to be here and have no one recognize me!"

 _My Lady?_ Well, it's not the worst thing in the world to be called. Before their names were called up, Marinette made a few decisions. One, she was going to test, and break, this poor _Chat Noir._ Two, she was hoping he came back tomorrow, because she wanted to see exactly what he had in store lest this was solo. She would have to cancel her plans.

 **There you have it, now things get fun. Next chapter? Let's see how he fairs, the ever flamboyant Chat vs the serious Ladybug in combat mode.**


End file.
